


Only With You

by HaveAGoodeDay



Series: Harley and Ivy oneshots [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, One Shot, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 19:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14291751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: So many answers you prepare for, all of them are expected to be letdowns. Some part says she’ll rip the band-aid off quick, another is convinced Pam wouldn’t hurt you like that, might ease the truth onto you over a long talk.





	Only With You

In your lap her hand is laced with your own, thumb gently and subconsciously rubbing across your palm. It’s dark, only the blue light of the television lighting up the living room. Pamela sighs at your side, leans her head on your shoulder and your chest tightens.

On screen a little boy is learning how to ride a bike from his father, and the movie’s plot is far from your mind as you glance down at the redhead on your left.

The question on the tip of your tongue feels light and ready to spread it’s wings, express itself but something holds it back, _barely_.

She must sense it, because it’s only a second then Pammy is sitting up but facing you with that _look_. Her green eyes staring past your face and into something _else_ , lips tight and worried.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, but it more is a demand of _tell me what’s bothering you_.

You debate not talking, something unusual, since you always talk. But there’s an edge to your girlfriend’s voice, not anger. Then it clicks, she’s upset, not at you.

Just that _you’re_ upset.

So you just go for it, voice what’s been running on in your mind for weeks.

“Do ya ever think ‘bout havin’ kids?” The heavy Brooklyn accent you carry comes out stronger when you are nervous, of course, she knows this.

“Honestly…” Pamela starts, bites her lip and her eyes drop to your hands, still joined together. Her skin is tanned and flawless, a nice contrast to the pale scars from too many hand-to-hand fights with men now buried far into your past.

  
So many answers you prepare for, all of them are expected to be letdowns. Some part says she’ll rip the band-aid off quick, another is convinced Pam wouldn’t hurt you like that, might ease the truth onto you over a long talk.

So you get ready for that, build up a wall around your pounding heart and squeeze her fingers with your own.

She looks up and her eyes (God, you _love_ her eyes, green with flecks of gold around the iris. Once you tried to count the golden parts, but she blinked and you lost count) are honest and true and you recognize this look she’s giving, the one she wears when she whispers _I love you_ and _forever_.

“Only with you.”

That’s what makes you stop, in all senses of the word. Your heart, your thoughts, _damn_ , even your breathing stutters to a sudden halt and she’s everything to you. The entire room, plants and sofa and the low volume of the movie still playing fade into nothing and you say-

“ _Really_?”

Because all this really feels fake, in a way, like when the doctors at Arkham give you too many happy pills and the dreams are crushed into dust when you wake from drugged haze.

“ _Really_.” Pammy confirms.

You lean forward and press your forehead against her own, breath in the fragrance of lilacs and lilies that clings to her skin like perfume as you drag the tip of your nose down her cheek and settle into the crook of her neck, taking it all in at once.

You feel her turn her head slightly, press a kiss into your blonde hair. Like she knows this is _big_ for you.

The happiness hits like a train running down wobbly tracks, elation flooding you down to the bones and you take both your hands and place them on either side of her face.

“I love ya.”

She smiles, something you’re sure everyone else thinks she isn’t capable of doing, and repeats it back, “I love you, too.”

The kiss that follows is hot and heavy and doing things like fuel the hot burning pressure behind your belly button as her tongue swipes against your bottom lip.

She laughs, light but hoarse with desire as you frantically start pulling at her button up sleep shirt, fingers shaking on the buttons. “Harls, we can’t actually make one right now.”

You get the damn shirt open and openly stare at her exposed breasts and thank the no-bra gods that have to exist in some culture.

The heat pooling in your underwear is starting to demand some type of attention, so you gently push at Pam’s shoulders until she’s laying on her back, staring up as you reach for the bottom of your shirt and lift it over your head as gracefully as possible, given how unbelievably turned on the entire moment has you. She’s looking at you like that, like you hold the sun and moon _and_ stars and you tell her,

“We can certainly _try_.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it wasn't too bad, I have never tried to write 2nd POV before and wanted to dip my toes into something new.


End file.
